


The Beginning

by Fierceawakening



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Gen, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 17:51:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fierceawakening/pseuds/Fierceawakening
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We hear a lot from the Autobot point of view (either Optimus's or Ratchet's) about the fateful moment when the Council appointed Orion Pax the new Prime. According to them, Megatron threw some kind of tantrum and a war started.</p><p>From Megatron's point of view, things look a bit different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beginning

I have heard what my enemies say about this war, so many millenia after its beginning.

That it began because I was jealous. That when Orion Pax and I spoke before the Council, they responded to his words and not mine. That I believed from the beginning that I deserved to be Prime, and that I started a war when they refused to grant it to me.

They miss one thing, saying that our long war began with a tantrum:

_Orion Pax was my disciple._

Orion Pax would never have defied the Council’s system of caste if it had not been for me. He would have lived out his life monitoring data as it came in on the Grid, storing it away without giving any thought to its contents. Or to why some mechs had access to some archives and not others.

The words that kindled young Orion Pax’s spark were mine.

I taught him everything he knew.

I knew he recoiled at war. I knew he wanted the meeting because he hoped for reconciliation.

Reconciliation! It was never possible. Councils, castes, guilds: such systems are mazes the weak weave to keep the strong from getting at them.

But I had always intended to give my ultimatum.

I expected my young friend, at long last, to understand. I expected him to see their fear in the trembling, meek postures of their ancient frames. I expected him to hear the lies in the static-filled whine of their voices.

Instead, he took the fierce spirit of warrior revolutionaries and chilled it into the lukewarm platitudes of the moderate.

And those who feared us both were so relieved they appointed him king.

"Freedom is the right of all sentient beings," he proclaimed, using the Council hall as his bully pulpit.

Words wrenched from my mouth -- and twisted beyond recognition.

I did not mean that in a world without caste, anyone would be protected. I did not mean that anyone would be able to do exactly as he wished, with no one to impede him.

I meant that in the society we knew, form dictated function, which dictated social role. In a society free of such restrictions, any and all could choose their own path -- and rise as far as their ambition and their ability propelled them.

That is freedom. But it is the freedom to vie for rank. 

Those strong enough, driven enough, clever enough, or -- yes -- ruthless enough to become the best would rise above all others. And they would be free to rise in whatever field they chose. A mech who had been a slave could be a ruler; a mech who had been an artist or scholar could labor in the factories if he wished.

Or even in the black hell of the mines, should he desire it.

And yes, I did mean "all sentient beings." Those humans Optimus Prime has become so fond of — I never said they were unfree.

Should they prove wise enough or clever enough to make up for brief lifespans and tiny frames, so be it. 

Let them gather their armies and amass their machines and weapons of war. Let them attack the Decepticons directly, should they think themselves strong enough to try.

Let them stand against Unicron himself should they prove prepared to face him! I for one would find it highly amusing to see a god bested by his parasites. 

They are free, as all should be. Let them try!

But, of course, it is far less likely they will depose him -- or us -- as that they will simply be destroyed.

That, too, is as it should be.

Any society must have order. Even the most frenzied revolution seeks, in the end, to impose order.

But any order intended to shield beings — whether mechanical, organic, or something else entirely — from the consequences of their actions is no order I would ever impose.

It is, in fact, the very sort of order that the feeble, ancient Councilmembers and their obsolete cronies in charge of the guilds imposed long ago and sought, at all costs, to maintain.

Now do you see why Orion’s betrayal angered me?

Me. Hah! As if one fit of temper split Cybertron in two!

Those who say the war started because I was angry at my former protege have one thing to account for:

_Why were the other Decepticons as enraged as I was?_

Why did they call for the destruction of a mech who had just been appointed their new Prime?

Simply because they were mine? 

Because they listened mindlessly to my edicts, their processors stalled in the same daze the Council imposed?

Or because  _mechs who come to their oppressors’ doorstep to make war_  will not stand for their own spark-fire twisted into words of lifeless reconciliation?


End file.
